


Tear Me Up

by SaucyWench



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Blood, Mentions of drugs, Minor Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 10:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench/pseuds/SaucyWench
Summary: Another prompt fill!Prompt 143 - “Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”Mitchell wakes up in a well-known situation.





	Tear Me Up

Everything hurt, but the real pain, the one that grabbed Mitchell’s attention and pulled him back to consciousness, was in his head.  Something had burrowed into his skull and was trying to hammer its way out.  That was the only explanation for the sharp throbbing. 

Mitchell cracked open one eye, ready to slam it shut if necessary.  He couldn’t make sense of what he saw, though.  Something fuzzy and generic beige, right in front of his nose.  He closed his eye and gave it a second, then opened both of them. 

The fuzzy beige resolved itself into a carpet.  He was face down on a floor.  He refocused and discovered a beige chair to match the carpet.  Beyond that was a white wall with an unremarkable picture of a field.  None of it was familiar. 

He lifted his head to turn it, hoping to figure out where he was, but pulled away from the carpet with an unpleasant sound.  He grimaced and raised a hand to wipe at his face, but froze when he saw it was covered in drying blood. 

Waking up covered in blood was nothing new for a vampire.  It wasn’t the first time for Mitchell, but it had been quite a while since it happened last.  He flexed his fingers, watching the blood flake off and drift to the carpet, while he tried to remember what he had done last night.  He’d gotten off work, changed clothes, and headed to the bar.  He was supposed to meet Anders for a drink.  Where was Anders?

That thought had him bolting upright.  It was more difficult that it should be, since he was shirtless.  There was blood matted in his chest hair, gummy and making him stick to the carpet.  Blood was everywhere, it was all he could taste, all he could smell, soaked into the carpet and his jeans, and _where was Anders?_

He was woozy and being upright took considerable effort.  He was in a motel room, a cheap one by the looks of it, which explained the unremarkable decorations.  He didn’t know how he had gotten here, or even where ‘here’ was. 

There was a body on the bed.  It was tangled in the covers, and there was a pillow over the face, but there was no mistaking the outline, or the blood soaking the sheets. 

Mitchell heard a keen.  When he realized the sound was coming from him, he slapped a hand over his mouth.  He was supposed to have met his boyfriend last night for drinks.  Now he was waking up in a strange motel, covered in blood, with a dead body in the bed.  What had he done?

He had to know.  He inched closer to the bed, unable to look away from the corpse.  He had to know what sort of monster he actually was, to black out and kill his beloved.  Once he knew, he would go to Mike’s bar and confess his sins.  Axl had always hated him and would gladly end his miserable existence.  Mitchell would willingly bend his neck for the blade, too.  But first he had to know.

Tears welled in his eyes as he ripped the covers from the body.  He saw Anders there, pale and lifeless, beautiful blue eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. 

Then Mitchell blinked and saw it was not Anders at all. 

A wave of relief hit Mitchell and he sagged forward.  He almost fell on to the bed, but caught himself with a hand on the wall, leaving a maroon smear. 

The man on the bed was in his twenties, with a shaved head and Van Dyke beard.  There was no resemblance to Anders whatsoever.  He was only wearing a pair of white briefs. 

Mitchell couldn’t help but think the man looked familiar.  He had a flash of the man laughing and leaning closer.  They had met in the bar while he was waiting on Anders.  How had they gotten from there to here?

Unfamiliar clothes were in a pile on the floor next to the bed.  Mitchell picked through them and found khaki slacks.  He rifled through the pockets, but instead of a wallet he found a small brown vial half full of white power, a pack of cigarettes with a joint tucked into it, and a tiny baggie with three small green pills. 

Another flash, this time of the man smiling and offering a drink. 

“You roofied me?” Mitchell asked the corpse as he started to laugh.  “You roofied a vampire.  You really are a first class, five-star, solid gold _fucking moron.”_

That explained why he didn’t remember last night.  It also explained why he had killed someone.  Drugs didn’t always work on vampires like they did on humans.  Apparently, this had caused some memory loss, but had not rendered him helpless. 

Discovering the body belonged to a sexual predator went a long way to assuage Mitchell’s guilt.  If the guy was going to drug strangers and take them to motel rooms, he got what he deserved.  Since the corpse still had on underwear and Mitchell was only missing his shirt, he figured he had killed the man before things went too far.  There were no mysterious aches or fluids to suggest otherwise. 

After washing his hands and face, Mitchell found his shirt draped over a table.  Luckily there was not any blood on it, but he needed a shower before he put it on.  His phone was in the pocket and showed several missed calls and a few texts.  He hit the number to call back. 

It barely rang once before Anders answered.  “Mitchell?”

Hearing Anders’ voice, knowing for sure he was alive and breathing, had Mitchell’s vision blurring once more.  Logically he knew Anders was fine, but having proof was a priceless comfort.  Mitchell swallowed hard before responding.  “Yeah.  It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”  Anders’ voice had gone sharp and alert.

“Nothing.”  Mitchell had to clear his throat before continuing.  “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, but what about you?  I’ve been trying to call you for hours.  Are you hurt?”

Mitchell swiped at his face, wiping away the tears that had started to flow.  He tried to keep it out of his voice, but wasn’t successful.  “There was a problem, and now I’ve got a situation.”

A pause while Anders tried to decipher what Mitchell meant.  Finally, he asked, “A messy situation?”

With a watery laugh, Mitchell replied, “Oh yeah.  Very messy.”

“Do you need anything?”

“I just want to go home,” Mitchell sighed. 

Time hung suspended while Mitchell waited for Anders to tell him no, sorry, being with a vampire was too dangerous and complicated.  No mortal would want a vampire, much less Mitchell, who couldn’t even manage to meet his boyfriend for drinks without running into trouble and committing murder.  Who had spilled rivers of blood and stained his soul beyond redemption.  Who had nothing to offer besides pain and death.  Anders should tell him to never call back again.

Instead, Anders asked, “Where are you?”

“Sec.”  Mitchell looked around until he found a key card on the nightstand.  He gave Anders the address printed on the side.

Anders repeated it back as he wrote it down.  “Stay put.  I’m coming to get you.”  He disconnected the call. 

Mitchell sat down on the floor.  The phone fell forgotten beside him as he buried his face in his hands and sobbed. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos, and comments! 
> 
> As always, I am over at Tumblr. Feel free to leave a prompt, tell me about your headcanons, or just say hi! 
> 
> [ [My personal blog] ](http://myseri.tumblr.com/)  
> [[My writing blog]](http://saucywenchwritingblog.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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